The forgotten war
by MissEclipse
Summary: 2 years after the Korean War ended, BJ arranges a reunion. But not everyone is in the mood for celebrating. Last four chapters now posted.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:**_** I own**_** zilch!**]

[**_AN: This story is inspired by the red sea of poppies at the Tower of London and is written in glorious remembrance of all the brave men and women who have died during the conflict of war._**]

**Chapter 1: Hawkeye and the chicken**

[_Timeline: July 1955 – Crabapple Cove, Maine_]

It was 3am in the morning. Benjamin Franklin Pierce sat at the kitchen table, staring – but not reading – the opened letter in his hand. He was so deep in thought, that he didn't hear Carlyle walking up behind him. He jumped as she gently placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Sorry," she apologised. "Didn't mean to make you jump."

He gave her a distant smile as he quickly folded up the letter and stuck it back into its envelope. She bent forward and kissed him tenderly on his cheek, before sitting down on the chair beside him.

"Have you made a decision yet?" she probed cautiously, obviously referring to the contents of the letter.

Pierce sighed, a pained expression spreading over his gaunt features. Carlyle hid her concern as she pondered over how thin and haggard he still looked. When destiny had brought them back together again about a year ago, she had been shocked to see how he had deteriorated from his former egotistic self.

She thought back to when she had last seen him during her tour in Korea. Their brief affair (she was married at the time) whilst stationed at 4077th M*A*S*H had rekindled their relationship from their pre-med days in residency. However, it wasn't long before their passion turned into reality, as they both remembered why their slightly volatile relationship had not worked in the past. She would eventually walk away from him – for the second time – as the same insecurities and doubts began to creep back into her mind.

After she went back to the States, she had promptly divorced her husband. She realised that she would never be able to love him the same way that she still loved Hawkeye. She hadn't planned to see Pierce again, but after the Korean War ended, she had been drawn to Crabapple Cove like a magnet and had sought him out.

She didn't know if she would find him there, or if she did, if he would welcome her back into his life. She had been ready to accept that he would be full of resentment and that probably all the bitter arguments and recriminations would start all over again. But she was willing to take that chance. Because when all was said and done, she knew she loved him.

What she didn't expect to find, was the emotionally-charged, completely disillusioned Hawkeye Pierce, cowering in the shadows of his darkened bedroom. His incoherent babbling and disturbed behaviour filled her with trepidation. She didn't recognise the quivering shell of the man before her and her first thoughts were to get the hell out of there why she still could.

As she looked deeper into his cold, unresponsive eyes, her trepidation suddenly changed to anger. She didn't know what had happened to take that wicked glint out of his dark blue pools of magnetic charm. But she knew she couldn't walk out on him again. She ran to him, pulling him into an embrace and rocked him gently. The tears spilled down his cheeks as he cried with a force that made his whole body shudder uncontrollably.

She couldn't remember how long she held him before the relentless tears finally dried up. His father had nodded gratefully to her, before leaving the room, closing the door behind him. He had tried and failed, on many occasions, to bring Hawkeye out of his depression. Hopefully his son would open up to this woman, who must surely have been an angel sent from heaven in their hour of need.

Carlyle gently pushed Pierce away from her and took his hand. She was relieved when she saw a hint of calmness returning to his face.

"What happened Ben?" she had asked gently.

"The jokes just stopped being funny," he whispered back in a haunting voice.

She knew there was more to it than that. It would take several days before Pierce would tell her the whole harrowing truth of what caused his breakdown. She had listened in horror as he re-lived the moment he had ordered a Korean woman to keep her baby quiet whilst trying to evade enemy soldiers. The M*A*S*H unit were stuck on a bus after coming back from a trip to the seaside and the baby was crying.

Except at the time - in Pierce's head - it wasn't a baby. It was a chicken. A damn chicken that wouldn't stop squawking and he was frightened it would give away their position to the enemy. When the squawking had finally stopped, Pierce looked back at the woman and realised she had suffocated her own child in fear of being captured.

This was just one memory of his time in Korea that Pierce would never forget. Another memory that came to mind was when his childhood friend, Tommy Gillis was hit by a bullet, whilst serving on the frontline. He had died right there on the operating table, despite Pierce's battling to save his life. Afterwards, he had cried for the very first time since he had arrived in Korea, even though he had already seen many young men die from their injuries. He remembered feeling guilty, because he had never cried for any of them.

Then there was the sublime moment when he was dressed as Father Christmas at the party for the local orphans. A call came in that a soldier needed urgent treatment for a chest wound injury out in the field. Pierce responded to the call and was helicoptered out still dressed in his costume and dopy white beard. He was lowered down to the ground on a rope and treated the casualty in a foxhole, whilst the enemy artillery rained all around him. The look of surprise on the soldier's face momentarily made him forget all about his pain!

But now those memories were turning into nightmares. There had been so much blood and countless dead bodies. Too many sleepless nights and mind-numbing, tedious days. Too many drunken moments trying to forget the devastation of an endless police action. Too much heartache, where only the innocent ever seemed to suffer.

But the Korean woman and her baby would always be the most vivid memory that repulsed him the most and had finally tipped him over the edge. He had been hospitalised for a short time afterwards, where he had been forced to face his demons. Eventually he returned to camp in time for the armistice to be announced. But he knew, deep down inside his soul, that he would never be the same man again.

Eventually, with Carlyle and his father's help, he found a way of dealing with his inner turmoil. Carlyle had never left his side throughout his recovery. She moved in with them both and she let him lean on her until he was strong enough to stand tall again. She transferred to the nearby Spruce Harbor General Hospital, where she continued her nursing career.

Pierce decided not to go back to the hospital as a surgeon. He felt he had already served a lifetime of cutting into bodies and dealing with a perpetual flow of casualties. Instead he became a doctor in his father's practice. He preferred the more personal touch, where he got to know each patient by their name and not by a number on a dog tag.

Daniel Pierce Senior was nearing retirement age and his son was soon taking over the healthcare and wellbeing of many of his patients. But he didn't put any pressure on Hawkeye to stay at the practice. After all, he was an accomplished surgeon and maybe one day he would get the calling to go back to where his life-saving skills could be put to better use.

Pierce had spent the last year slowly rebuilding his life. He had learned how to laugh again and he was beginning to get his feelings of guilt and anguish under control.

Until he received the letter from BJ. They had stayed in contact over the past two years. BJ's letters had helped him to a degree, but he sensed that BJ was also trying to make adjustments to his home-coming, so played down his own decline into darkness.

One thing that constantly came up in BJ's letter was a 4077th reunion. He had wanted to arrange it for the first year after the Korean War had ended, but Pierce knew his wounds still hadn't healed enough for him to attend.

BJ obviously hadn't given up on the idea and had drummed up quite a bit of support from his fellow M*A*S*H compatriots. Another date had been set for the 27 July at the Pierre Hotel in Manhattan. Just a few weeks away. Now all Pierce had to do was ask himself if he could face the reunion.

He became aware that he hadn't answered Carlyle's question. It seemed like a life-time ago since she had spoken, but he knew that only a few seconds had elapsed. Her encouraging gaze never faltered as she waited patiently for him to reply.

"Trapper's going," he finally said, as if that simple statement would clarify his answer.

"It will be good to see him again," she replied.

Pierce nodded his head in acknowledgment.


	2. Chapter 2 Boy soldier

**Chapter 2: Boy soldier**

[_Timeline: July 1955 – Hannibal, Missouri_]

"Well lookie here, Mother!" exclaimed Colonel Sherman T Potter. He waved the letter in front of his wife, Mildred, in an excited manner. "Looks like Hunnicutt's finally got everyone together for our M*A*S*H shindig!"

"That's nice, Sherman," replied Mildred. "What date did he have in mind?"

"Wednesday 27 July," answered Potter. "That's exactly two years after the Peace Treaty was signed. We haven't got anything planned on that day have we?"

Mildred chucked to herself as she checked the calendar. They both knew they had made a point of keeping that date clear. The exact same conversation had taken place this time last year, when BJ had approached them about a possible reunion to mark the first anniversary of the end of the Korean War.

Unfortunately, for some, the memories were still too raw to consider a reunion and the idea had failed to get off the ground. But BJ had vowed to try again to mark the second anniversary – or even the third – until everyone agreed that they would come.

"Looks good, Sherman," said Mildred as she circled the date on the calendar with a red pen. She had already met some of the relatives of her husband's M*A*S*H family. On 28 March 1953, she had attended a party held at the very same Pierre Hotel, in celebration of their loved ones, who were so far away from them serving in Korea. She considered it a great honour to now get a chance to meet the rest of the ensemble.

Potter beamed back at Mildred. It was important to him that she shared this reunion with him. She had been his constant source of strength during his long military career and he had made several references to her with a fondness that was both sincere and heartfelt. She immediately made herself busy, making the preparations to take the trip to New York, leaving her husband to have a moment of quiet contemplation.

Potter strolled slowly out to the paddock. His horse gave him a soft whinny as the Colonel's hand reached out to rub his velvet, chestnut brown nose. His thoughts drifted back to those final, precarious months of the Korean War. Since he had taken over command in September 1952, he had become the corner-stone of the unit. A seasoned military man, he had been the perfect choice to command a battlefront hospital.

But despite being regular army, he understood that he was not dealing with soldiers but doctors. Therefore he had been a relatively relaxed and laid-back commander. He turned up the heat only when he needed to and soon gained the respect of all his officers – including – if not begrudgingly - the aristocratic, Major Charles Emerson Winchester III! Potter sniggered to himself as he remembered overhearing Winchester referring to him as "Colonel Cowpie" in conversation!

He had become somewhat of a father-figure and mentor within the camp. His best memories of his time in Korea would be that of the close relationships he struck up between his younger medical staff and subordinates.

But it had not all been plain sailing. Although he was more than capable of running the hospital during one crisis after another, there were times when he doubted his own credibility and competency as a surgeon. He was becoming aware that this war was taking a toll on his weary bones!

During one particular dark meltdown, he had become convinced that he had grown too old and tired to continue. He was finding it hard to keep up with new procedures and had made a mistake during surgery on a young soldier, nearly costing him his life. Pierce had bailed him out, going back in and removing some shrapnel that he had missed the first time round.

This hadn't sat well with the Colonel and he had later chewed Pierce out over some silly incident, accusing him of interfering with his patient. But really he was just mad with himself.

For the first time in a long time, he had felt totally incompetent – and old – very old. Old to the point where his hands shook and his mind began to play tricks with him. His body ached and he was finding it hard to focus. It had taken a very stern talk from his friend and psychiatrist, Captain Sidney Freedman, to bring him out of his melancholy.

During his talk with Sidney, he had a flashback to his youth, where he had always dreamed of becoming a doctor. It filled him with a sense of pride when he reminded himself that he had achieved his goal. Somehow, the thought of that wide-eyed, eager young boy spurred him on to find renewed determination to carry on.

Age would play a big factor again, when he reported one of his close Colonel friends to I-Corps. Tired of sitting behind a desk, the Colonel ended up yearning for action and was sent to the frontline. Unfortunately, he issued orders that ended up putting his whole platoon in hospital, because he didn't understand the tactical situation. The incident not only ended the Colonel's career but also his friendship with Potter.

Potter sighed with a sadness that wrenched at his heart. He had fought in all the great wars – both as a boy and a man. He had swiftly come to the conclusion that there was no room in this man's army for aging, gung-ho colonels! He was glad that this would be his last battle.

Despite declaring that he had plans to return to Missouri after the war, as a semi-retired country doctor, he did in fact take up the position of Chief of Staff and Surgery at the General Pershing VA Hospital. He had kept his promise to Mildred and retired from the army, but he realised that he wasn't quite ready to give up his medical professional just yet.

There had been times when he had wondered why he had taken up the CO position in the middle of a war zone, so near to retiring. But if he did have any regrets, the thought of those eccentric, loyal, dedicated people under his command, affirmed to himself that it was an experience he was proud to have been a part of.


	3. Chapter 3 The bitter sound of music

**Chapter 3: The bitter sound of music**

[_Timeline: July 1955 – Boston, Massachusetts_]

Charles Emerson Winchester III had just finished another day at the prestigious Boston Mercy Hospital. He had finally secured his position as Chief of Thoracic Surgery and indeed, he found the role both challenging and satisfying.

It was only when he wasn't at the hospital that his life felt empty and worthless. He still lived at home with Mother, Father and sister Honoria. The clinical, impersonal relationship he had with his father was now even more distant and uncomfortable. He found himself almost tongue-tied in his presence, as the few things they once had in common had now become insignificant to Charles.

His relationship with his mother wasn't much better. Even though she could see her son was languishing in a state of despair, it wasn't the Winchester way to show any emotion towards each other. Having a stiff upper lip was what was important.

The only person who seemed to feel his anguish was Honoria. She had noticed a significant change in her brother since he had arrived home from Korea. His once arrogant, self-righteous manner had been replaced with a sad, almost humbling demeanour.

She had further observed, with some concern, that he didn't play his classical music any more. Even his literary collection of books and poetry lay untouched and unread. Instead, he preferred to bury himself in his work, returning home late into the evening, before immediately retiring to his room.

And he was drinking a lot more than she had ever remembered him doing before. Perhaps not to the extent where he was getting drunk very night, but certainly enough to make her feel uneasy about his behaviour.

His mood seem to darken further on receiving a letter from one of his fellow M*A*S*H acquaintances. He had reluctantly confided in his sister about the forthcoming reunion.

"I really think you should go, Charles," she coaxed him gently. "I don't know what I can do to help you, but perhaps these people will understand your restlessness."

"I have no intention of ever seeing any of those philistines again!" declared Charles indignantly.

Honoria looked at him in bemusement. It was the most animated she had seen him in a long time. Despite his feigned haughtiness, she was positive that the key to his troubles would be resolved by attending the reunion.

"Why don't you play your music any more, Charles?" she suddenly enquired.

A foreboding shadow swept across his face, making her shiver, involuntarily, at the sudden change in his expression.

"Music was once my refuge," he confessed, somewhat tersely. "Certain events in Korea have, unfortunately, diminished any pleasure I once had in this pastime."

"But I don't understand," said Honoria, a frown creasing her pretty face. "It used to bring you such comfort and joy. I wish you could open up your heart to it again."

"You're right, Honoria!" retorted Charles, almost shouting the words back at her. "You don't understand and you never will. Now can we please just let the matter drop?"

Honoria flinched at the hostility in her brother's manner. He had never raised his voice to her before. He had always treated her with a gentleness and sincerity that had always made her feel loved and respected. Her eyes filled with tears, not so much because of his harsh words, but because she felt she was losing a part of him that she couldn't reach.

"I-I'm s-s-sorry, Ch-Ch-Charles," she stuttered, despondently. "I d-d-didn't m-m-mean to u-u-upset you."

Charles immediately regretted his outburst. Honoria's stutter always became more pronounced when she was upset or nervous. His anger turned to shame as he reached out and gently wiped away the tears from her cheeks.

"No, no!" he said gently. "You must excuse my boorish behaviour. It's not fair to take this out on you."

"I'll g-g-go with you t-t-to the r-r-reunion if you like," she responded, smiling empathetically through her tears.

Charles was touched by her compassionate offer. Honoria was of a fragile disposition and lacked the confidence that he himself, had in abundance. For her to agree to go into a room full of people she didn't know would take a lot of courage on her part.

"My dear, sweet, Honoria," he said. "I would consider it a great honour if you would accompany me."

Honoria hugged her brother and then scurried from the room, leaving him to his thoughts. Charles rubbed his forehead, as the familiar nagging headache started to thud in his head. Somewhere in the background, he could hear the lilting melody of Mozart's Clarinet Quintet in AK 581.

The images of the five Chinese PoWs, interpreting the song with their primitive array of chime bells, wooden flutes and violins, brought an appreciative and genuine smile to his face. He had spent hours trying to teach the musicians how to play his favourite chamber piece. They finally mastered the tune, just as they were being driven away with the other PoWs, as part of an exchange with the Allied PoWs.

Later on in the same morning they were to be killed in a barrage of enemy artillery. The serene picture was violently shattered by the sound of Winchester smashing his record to smithereens. There was no safe haven from this wretched war.

[**AN: I was so hoping that I would finish this for Remembrance Day, but I just ran out of time. As I have started it (and if there is enough interest in the story) I will probably finish it at some point. In the meantime, any feedback would be gratefully appreciated.**]


	4. Chapter 4: Family loyalties

**Chapter 4 - Family loyalties**

[_Timeline: July 1955 – Ford Ord, California_]

Margaret Houlihan had returned to the States full of renewed hope and enthusiasm. She was sure her father would be proud that she had decided to carry on nursing in the Army General Hospital at Ford Ord.

However, her happiness was short-lived. He was clearly disappointed that she had turned down the two esteemed administration posts that he had recommended her for – one in Tokyo and the other at the NATO Headquarters in Belgium.

"Where is your ambition Margaret?" he had asked her. "This was your chance to climb higher up the social ladder and take your place amongst Colonels and Generals."

Margaret had felt like she had been run over by an army jeep. He obviously thought the hospital job was beneath her. She had hoped he would understand that she was a nurse – first and foremost – and a damn good one!

One of the things she had been looking forward to about coming home, was getting time to get acquainted with her family again. Encouraged by her divorced parents' apparent closeness at the families' celebration reunion, she thought perhaps they might have somehow stayed together. But it wasn't to be. As with everything surrounding their disciplined lives, it was all just a show. If anything, they had drifted even further apart from each other.

Her father, despite promises to spend more time with her, was very rarely at home. In between army conventions, military lectures and reunions, there was little time for Margaret in his busy schedule.

Her mother, Joyce, was still an alcoholic. She preferred to find solace in the bottom of a bottle, rather than spend time with her daughter. Margaret had wondered what had driven her mother to drink. Her parents had always had a fiery relationship, but she was sure that at one time they had been happy with each other.

Perhaps she was resentful because she had given up her career as an army nurse in order to start a family. Or maybe she had felt threatened because she had taken a back-seat in her children's affections. Although she had been a formidable figure during their childhood, Joyce had very much been in her husband's shadow. With a pang of guilt, Margaret realised that both her and her younger sister, Dorothy, had idolised their father whilst they were growing up, giving very little thought to their mother.

Her father, in turn, had been unable to hide his frustration that he hadn't been blessed with a boy. Although Margaret and Dorothy had both reached the rank of Major and Captain, respectively, their achievements were barely acknowledged by their father.

In fact, it would appear that he had already shunned Dorothy. Shortly after her recent marriage she had fallen pregnant and, like her mother, had given up her army career to concentrate on family life.

Margaret had enjoyed spending time with Dorothy and her niece. It made Margaret think that maybe this could be her one day. But there was still so much pressure from her father to achieve higher goals and more than anything, she wanted to make him really proud of her.

She felt like she was being pulled in two different directions. Should she take the path her father wanted her to take, or should she go her own way? Was she going to end up like her mother, who after devoting most of her life to the army, had now ended up bitter and alone?

In the end she had followed her heart and carried on nursing. It wasn't easy adapting to civilian life. After all, she had spent the last ten years following in her father's footsteps pursuing an army career. It was with a great sadness in her heart that she realised he would never forgive her for turning down the administration positions. In his eyes, she had wasted her opportunity to establish herself as a colonel in her own right.

But now, two years later, she knew she had made the right decision. The war had changed her. She found she had come to value the importance of life more than the pomp and ceremony of having achieved colonel status.

As she re-read BJ's letter, she realised that her tour in Korea had taught her that life was a precious and fragile commodity. It was something you didn't take for granted. And she had come to respect death and learn to be in awe of it. Because death didn't have any prejudices. It didn't just come to the old and the sick.

This was why the unit at 4077th M*A*S*H had worked so well. The lack of military discipline had always frustrated her. But she had admired the skill and expertise of the surgeons and the compassion and dedication shown by her proficient nurses. And despite her strict, army philosophy, there had been times when her "by-the-book" methods had gone out the window.

The memory flashed into her head of that cold, Christmas day morning, as if it was yesterday. The young, wounded solider had been brought into Pre-Op just as the orphans' party was about to kick off.

It was quickly established that the soldier was brain dead and that it wouldn't be long before his heart would soon follow. Both Hawkeye and BJ were certain that death would be imminent.

It was then that she had inadvertently found a photograph of the soldier with his family, which included two young children. BJ had then embarked on a campaign to keep the man alive long enough for Christmas day _not_ to be remembered as the day their daddy had died.

Unfortunately the solider died 15 minutes short of midnight. Father Mulcahy had tried to administer last rites, but BJ was so caught up in the moment, he refused to accept that the soldier was gone.

Hawkeye had tried to make him see sense, telling him that it was time to let the young man rest and that he had done all he could. But it was Father Mulcahy's haunting words that finally made BJ give up his fight.

"You've done your job, BJ and now it's time for me to do mine," he had said, with a quiet determination to his manner.

BJ finally accepted defeat. Hawkeye had then walked to the clock on the wall and moved the hands to 12:05am, declaring that that soldier had made it. In that moment – and for the sake of the dead man's children - the unanimous decision had been made to fake the death certificate. For once, death hadn't won. But it was a poignant victory.

Margaret's eyes misted over as she recalled the incident. There were so many memories of indescribable moments of emotions that had truly shaken her to the core. And they were all memories that only those remarkable people who shared them with her would understand.


	5. Chapter 5: Unfinished business

**Chapter 5: Unfinished business**

[_Timeline: July 1952 – Fort Wayne, Indiana_]

Frank Burns couldn't quite believe his eyes when he read BJ's letter. A reunion? And he had been invited? There had to be a catch!

"What's up, dad?" enquired his eldest daughter, Janet, her father's astonished expression giving her cause to wonder.

Frank handed his daughter the letter, and waited in silence whilst she read it.

"What's the problem?" she finally said, as she handed him back the letter. "Don't you want to go?"

"Oh, those guys don't really want me around!" whimpered Frank, in a sorry fashion.

"Well then why did you get an invitation?" asked Janet, somewhat irritated at her father's usual, negative attitude.

"They just want someone to make fun off," retorted Frank. "Just like they used to do," he added quietly to himself.

Janet frowned in despair. Being the eldest of Frank's three daughters, she had cottoned on fairly quickly that something wasn't quite right with her father, when he had returned from his tour in Korea.

She came from a very patriotic family, yet there had been no hero's welcome when her father had come home. No-one had been waving a banner in pride. He was quiet and withdrawn and there was definitely tension between him and her mother, Louise.

Over those first few days, there had been heated arguments and accusations flying around. Of course, everything had been very hush-hush in front of the children, but her mother's red, tearful eyes and her father's guilty, hang-dog demeanour, didn't go unnoticed by their astute and extremely intelligent, 14 year-old daughter.

When she tried to talk to her mother about it, she just glossed over the tension, saying that daddy had been taken ill and that "_we all just have to be patient with him"_. But Janet was still suspicious. Her father hadn't returned to the practice that he had spent three years building up before he went to Korea.

Instead he had been promoted to a Lieutenant Colonel and had taken up a position at the Indiana VA Hospital. From what Janet could understand, he was now involved more in the running of the hospital, rather than in a capacity as a doctor.

Two years later, she had finally understood that in reality, her father had suffered a nervous breakdown. Further, the "_army mule with bosoms_" that her mother kept referring to, was in fact a nurse called Margaret Houlihan, with whom he had embarked on a passionate affair with.

After much begging and pleading from her father, her mother had eventually forgiven him. He declared that the affair had meant nothing to him, but Janet wasn't so sure. From what she could understand, the nurse in question had got married and this was what had triggered her father's erratic behaviour, which led to his breakdown.

"Is that the real reason why you don't want to go?" she pressed him, gently.

Frank sighed as he looked into her honest, trustworthy eyes. Why did she always have a knack of knowing what he was thinking? He had confided in her quite a bit over the last two years. She had been surprisingly understanding and sympathetic towards him and never seemed to judge him over his errant ways.

Not like Louise. She had always been cold and frigid towards him. She may have forgiven him, but there was still an icy chill between them. The little sarcastic digs and her obvious scorn and disrespect for her husband had inadvertently turned their two younger children against him.

But it wasn't all her fault. After all, he had only married her because she came from a rich family. It didn't have anything to do with love. He had to make the marriage work because the house and most of the stocks were in her name. She in return, would never be able to live with the disgrace of divorce and the shame of admitting that her husband had been unfaithful to her.

All in all, there wasn't much in his life that he was very proud about – except perhaps Janet – who was probably his only source of love and support. But he hadn't told her everything. She didn't know that he had completely lost it after Margaret had got married. She didn't know that he had gone on a rampage in Seoul and had been arrested for harassing various women who reminded him of Margaret – including a distinguished General's wife!

After he was arrested, he had been confined for psychiatric evaluation. The Army had then, in their infinite wisdom, dropped all charges against him. He was promoted to Lt-Colonel and transferred back to his home state of Indiana, where he was put in charge of the VA hospital.

But during those psychiatric sessions, Frank had learned quite a bit about himself. He began to see why he took such a ribbing from his fellow Swampees. His one-dimensional personality had made him a perfect target. On the verge of being a completely inept surgeon, his lack of surgical aptitude was matched only by his unfeeling, bedside manner.

His pompous, closed-minded attitude had sickened everybody. Indeed, he thought that the refugees of Korea were inferior and probably enemy infiltrators sent to kill Americans. He had used his rank and influence to belittle and insult the meeker personnel in camp. He was ashamed to admit to himself that he had been nothing more than a cowardly, yellow-bellied bully.

Even though he was never going to leave his wife, his feelings towards Margaret had been real. But she had broken his heart and crushed his ego. He thought back to the time just after she had announced her engagement. He had fallen into a depression and completely lost his marbles. Fearing that he was heading towards a Section 8, Radar had managed to get Frank's mother on the phone. She seemed to be the only person with whom Frank had any affection for.

The conversation that had ensued with his mother was both pitiful and desperate.

"_Nobody really likes me here_," he had rambled wildly. "_Well, there was one person, but she was just pretending to like me. You know, the way Dad used to_?"

Frank gulped back the wave of emotion that made his head feel giddy. He remembered that his mother hadn't denied his statement, therefore acknowledging his assumption to be correct.

Was this why he had ended up the way he was? Why he was always the butt of someone's joke. Or the reason why people always laughed without him? He had freely admitted once to Trapper, that he had become a snitch, just so that he had somebody to talk to. He had lived a lonely childhood, scarred by a father who didn't love him and a brother who had nick-named him Ferret Face.

So was Margaret the reason why he didn't want to go to the reunion? He could still see her flying off on her honeymoon, whilst he stood alone on the chopper pad, quietly saying a dignified goodbye to her.

He knew that her marriage had failed. BJ had mentioned it, discreetly, in his letter. Although he wasn't naïve enough to think they could pick up where they had left off, it could be a chance to resolve a history of unfinished business between them.

"Is it because _she'll_ be there," continued Janet, emphasising the word "_she_" as she cut into her father's thoughts.

"Well, I'm not sure it would be a good idea having Mother and Margaret in the same room together," contemplated Frank, a sudden panicked expression appearing on his face.

"Hmm, I guess that might be rubbing her face in it," agreed Janet. "But I could come with you? It might help to prove to mum that you've finally moved on."

Frank stared at his 16-year old daughter, wondering how she had managed to become so wise beyond her years.

"I think I'd like that, Janet," he said shyly, pulling her into a grateful hug.

[**_AN: This was a particularly difficult chapter to write, so apologies if it seems a bit disconnected. It was really hard to find something good to write about Frank. He was such an unlikeable and completely hapless character in the show, that it was difficult to find anything endearing about him. Saying that, I just loved Larry Linville's comical portrayal of such an unfeeling, evil person!_**]


	6. Chapter 6: A different kind of crazy

**Chapter 6: A different kind of crazy**

[_Timeline: July 1955 – River Bend, Missouri_]

As he read BJ's letter, Maxwell Klinger couldn't help chuckling at the irony of it all. He had spent most of his time during the Korean War trying to get out of the army on a Section 8. However, dressing up in women's clothing, citing family catastrophes and carrying out several daring escape missions, had not convinced his Commanding Officers that he was crazy!

Indeed, they appeared to find his antics mildly entertaining, often commenting on his latest dress or joining in with his current scam! But despite his madcap capers, they also knew that he was a conscientious orderly and corpsman, who never let his schemes interfere with his duties.

After becoming Company Clerk and a promotion in rank to Sergeant, he had eventually given up on his quest for a discharge. Besides - as he once declared in a letter to his uncle - nobody was going to notice another madman in a camp full of already crazy people!

What was crazy, however, was the fact that he had decided to stay in Korea after the war ended. He had fallen in love and married his Korean bride, Soon-Lee, just before the M*A*S*H unit disbanded. As they departed for their honeymoon, Klinger vowed that he would stay in Korea until they found Soon-Lee's parents. She had been separated from them during an artillery attack and had been looking for them ever since.

As Klinger and Soon-Lee began their relentless search to find her parents, he witnessed first-hand the devastation of a country that had been torn apart by a brutal war. Families had been separated and thousands of children orphaned. The refugees that had fled their homes from the north to seek refuge in the south lost everything - their land, possessions and in some cases, even their loved ones.

Crazy had now taken on a new dimension in Klinger's mind. Teenagers who had killed unarmed farmers thinking they were their enemies – that was a numb-blowing kind of crazy. Soldiers being led by officers who had never commanded men in battle – that was unbelievably crazy. Silently watching the people rummage around amongst debris and rubble, trying to find the remains of their household possessions – that was a heart-breaking kind of crazy. Watching dead bodies being carried away on hand-pushed carts – that was the worst kind of crazy of all.

Several months later – and probably more by luck than judgment - they did eventually find Soon-Lee's parents. It was a very emotion reunion and one that Klinger didn't think would ever happen. Afterwards, they stayed in Korea for several months and helped them to rebuild their lives again.

Bombs that had demolished dams and water supplies, had caused the rice paddies to flood and crops to be destroyed. This had subjected the people to a terrible famine. Klinger and Soon-Lee worked tirelessly to restore the land so that her parents could once again return to their simple, but necessary, farming life.

But the craziness didn't stop there. At the beginning of 1954, Klinger brought Soon-Lee back to his hometown in Toledo, Ohio. However, what should have been a moment of great joy, soon turned into a nightmare. Klinger was disowned by his family, who disapproved of the mix-raced wedding. In fact, the whole town seem to discriminate against the couple and Klinger found it very hard to find work.

Out of desperation, Klinger had resulted to petty crime to make ends meet. He eventually was caught out and put on trial. He took a chance and contacted Colonel Potter for help. The Colonel was able to negotiate a deal whereby, in exchange for the charges being dropped, Klinger would be offered a position working for him as a clerk at the VA hospital.

So, with a heavy heart, Klinger left his beloved family and Toledo behind and relocated to Missouri with Soon-Lee. It would be the start of another crazy chapter in Klinger's life. But hey, he was used to crazy! Over the last four years he had faced death, controversy and certain madness! It he could live through such a callous and cruel war, he sure as hell could live through a wall of prejudice and bigotry.

And the irony was, that the family that had stayed true to him was not his blood family, but a family that had become part of his life through the bitter conflict of war. They may have been a dysfunctional group of people, but he was proud to call them his friends.

Soon-Lee came up and slipped her arm through Klinger's, resting her head on his shoulder. He smiled at her, affectionately, noting the reflective look on her face.

"27th July," she said, softly. "Armistice day."

Klinger nodded, soberly, in agreement, understanding the relevance to the date of the reunion. It may have been the day that the fighting had ended in Korea, but the armistice had not truly ended the war. Korea was still a divided country.

Along the 38th parallel, it would still always be 1950.

[**_AN: Obviously a lot of this stuff is canon. I'm not trying to create an Alternative Universe, but just trying to reflect on how the war affected everyone. I hope that's coming across. Hope to continue soon. Thanks for all the reviews and to all the followers for your interest in the story. If you can spare a moment, please continue to let me know what you think so far._**]


	7. Chapter 7: Radar's journey

**Chapter 7: Radar's journey**

[_Timeline: July 1955 – Ottumwa, Iowa_]

Radar couldn't help feeling a bit nervous when he thought about the reunion. Mainly because he knew he wasn't the same person he was then, that he was now. He thought back, reflectively, to the day that had changed his life forever.

It all started when he received his greetings from the Draft Board. Not being much of a scholar, he had always dreamt of joining the army after finishing high school. The shy, naïve, 18 year-old, was more than ready to join up and embark on - what he thought - would be the greatest adventure of his life.

He had left home with just the clothes on his back, an old beaten-up teddy-bear and a wad of his mom's traditional Iowa, Maid-Rite loose meat sandwiches. He had of course heard about the "Police Action" going on in Korea, but an eager anticipation of the unknown far out-weighed his fear of what lay ahead.

The first challenge came in the form of four months' basic military training. It was rigorous and relentless, but it sure as hell got him ready to endure life in the army. He wasn't afraid of hard work. The young Walter Eugene O'Reilly had spent most of his life working on his parents' farm, which was by no means a place for sissies or slackers!

His elderly father had died when he was very young, so he had been burdened with most of the running of the homestead. He was ably assisted by his mom and Uncle Ed. In his absence, Uncle Ed would now step into his shoes and help his mom run things.

When the time had come for him to leave Ottumwa, it had been a nerve-racking feat for him to comprehend. He had spent his whole life in Iowa and it was the first time he had ever been on a plane.

The flight to Seattle had been the start of his big adventure. From there he would be boarding the WW2 Kaiser-built liberty ship, that would set sail for the shores of Japan. This was an experience in itself and one he wouldn't forget in a hurry!

Crammed in on the relatively small liner with thousands of seasick troops, the 5,000 mile trip across the Pacific took 16 days. Originally, he had wanted to join the marines, but failed the medical test. Instead he was assigned as an orderly to 4077th M*A*S*H, eventually being promoted to Company Clerk.

You could say that those first few months were a complete culture shock for the young Corporal. His cosy, protected world came crashing down on him like a ton of bricks. There was no gentle adjustment into an environment that was completely alien to him.

All of a sudden he found himself wading through a sea of forms, paperwork, red tape and army bureaucracy that he didn't understand. His CO, one Colonel Henry Blake, appeared even more incompetent than himself about army matters. It soon became apparent that this was one job that he was going to have to deal with on his own.

Henry had been a very easy-going leader. Despite his reluctance to run the show in a proficient manner, he had supported the young, inexperienced clerk, giving him the slack he needed to work things out his own way. And it soon paid off. After several months of basically screwing everything up, he did finally become the backbone of 4077th M*A*S*H.

His ability to foresee what was going to happen was astonishing. He quite often knew what was going to be asked of him before he was even asked the question. And he had an uncanny way of finishing off Colonel's Blake's sentences for him.

He also had exceptionally good hearing, able to hear helicopters before anyone else. He could even tell whether or not they were loaded with casualties! His remarkable extra-sensory perception earned him the name "Radar".

Having been brought up by his mom to be a very polite and well-behaved young man, he found the antics of the surgeons quite bewildering. At first he was shocked by their gin-swilling, womanising antics. It was even more baffling to him that his CO often turned his back on their gambling and juvenile pranks. On occasions, he would even join in!

Despite his sweet and innocent disposition, he had soon learned to work things to his advantage. He had a constant supply of passes conveniently signed by his CO, for every imaginable scam going. He would always find a way to cheat the system to procure what he needed for his own gain and that of the unit.

He had struck up an unlikely friendship with Captain Pierce, who, in the earlier days, had become his hero. Hawkeye was everything he wasn't. Tall, handsome, funny, intelligent, confident with women – well the list just went on and on! However, as he matured - and after a rather heated argument with his hero - his idolisation eventually turned into respect. This respect was mutually returned by Hawkeye.

It was a friendship that was also treasured by the Captain. Radar was the typical boy next door kind of person. Thoughtful, sensitive, home-loving and cute as a button! He admired him for his honesty and modest generosity and for his big heart that would always find a way to help others when they needed it.

With a heavy sigh, Radar turned his thoughts to Henry Blake. They very much had a father/son relationship that had continued until the day Henry got his discharge papers to go home. The memory of that tragic day, when he had walked into OR and announced that the Colonel had been killed when his plane was shot down over the sea of Japan, still left his heart in shreds.

Of course death had always been lurking around the corner and it was something you never really got used to. But it hurt twice as much when it happened to somebody whom you had come to love like your own father. The hurt only got better when his next CO, Colonel Sherman T Potter had arrived on the scene and more or less continued in the role where Henry Blake had left off.

As clearly as he remembered the first day of his big adventure, he also remembered his last. With the sudden death of his Uncle Ed, he was granted a hardship discharge by the army so he could go back home and help his mom run the farm.

As he looked through the busy OR doors for the last time, his eyes finally settled on Captain Pierce. Hawkeye had looked up from his patient long enough to meet his intense gaze and gave him one of his rare army salutes. Even though Hawkeye's sad eyes glistened with tears, Radar knew that he would be smiling from ear to ear underneath his surgical mask. But the smile didn't fool him. That dashing, school-boy grin always hid a multitude of churned up emotions and despondency.

He had nodded back in acknowledgement and then turned round and walked slowly out into the compound. He had looked round the makeshift hospital with a mixture of elation and apprehension. He was leaving 4077th M*A*S*H. He was going home. Back to the flat, rolling farmland of Iowa, Ottumwa. Back to mom and good old home-made apple pie. Back to the simple, clean-living life of a world he could barely remember.

As with his arrival at the 4077th, he had hit the ground running when he returned home. Times were hard and he had to take up a second job in the general store to help make ends meet. His buddies back in Korea had become aware of his downfall. They immediately made arrangements to send him an orphaned Korean boy – who was somewhat of an agricultural whiz – to help him out.

Things were on an even keel now. Plus he had inherited a girlfriend by the name of Patty Haven. He had bumped into her in the passenger terminal whilst waiting for a flight back from R&R one day. She was a pretty nurse who was going home to Lancaster, Missouri.

They had hit it off straightaway, and it was with great reluctance that he had to leave her when his flight came up. Being fairly close to Lancaster, one of the first things he did when he got back home was to look her up and they very soon became a couple.

So life was betting back to normal. But every now and then, when he heard the rumble of an aircraft or the whirl of helicopter rotors in the distance, he would quickly find himself transported back to Korea. It was going to take a long time before that familiar tightness in his gut would disappear.

He folded up the letter and put it back in its envelope. It sure would be swell to see the guys again. Except now, he was no longer that innocent, young teenager, who had slept with his teddy bear, drank Grape Nehi Soda and snuck a quick look at the nurses through the peephole in the showers! Rightly or wrongly, he guessed he had the war to thank for that.


	8. Chapter 8: Doubts and dilemmas

**Chapter 8: Doubts and dilemmas**

[_Timeline: July 1955 – Hannibal, Missouri_]

Father Mulcahy tutted in frustration as he read BJ's letter. Not because he was against the idea of a reunion, but because it was a reminder of a time in his life when he had felt totally useless and inadequate.

Even now, he was still deliberating over the same question that he had asked himself over four years ago. What use had a catholic priest been in a M*A*S*H unit? After all, he wasn't a surgeon or even a medic. Sure, he had picked things up on the job, but he obviously didn't have the skill or talent to save anyone's life.

Except maybe that time when he had volunteered to go with Radar to a Battalion Aid station and pick up a patient with an injured throat. On the way back, the solider started to choke and he had performed an emergency tracheotomy to save his life. Oh, and he just happened to be under enemy fire at the time, whilst Captain Pierce was giving him step-by-step instructions over the camp radio. That was a pretty awe-inspiring experience.

He remembered he got a right roasting from Colonel Potter when he returned to camp, but at least he had gained the surgeons' respect. Was that why he did it, he has asked himself later? For the glory? To proof a point that he was needed? He had told himself it was because he wanted a first-hand experience of what it was like to be on the frontline. But had it been worth risking his life for?

There were other times when he doubted his motives had been sincere. Like the time when he acted as a medical chopper's counterweight, so a critically wounded patient could be flown back to camp. This meant he had to lay down in one of the litters that were strapped to each side of the chopper. Goodness! That had certainly been a hair-raising ride to say the least!

His actions had stunned the entire camp. And again, afterwards, he had asked himself why he did it. Was it because he had been peeved at being passed over for yet another chance of promotion? Was he trying to impress the Powers to Be to proof that he deserved it? He had been ashamed to admit to himself that being promoted meant a lot to him when morally, he knew it wasn't important.

Despite his misgivings, he never forgot that he was there as God's emissary. Lord knows, he had been succumbed to all sorts of unholy situations and heard some very revealing confessions! He had been peacemaker, spiritual advisor and general all-round good egg! He had dealt scrupulously with black marketers. And on one occasion, he had even become an Olympic runner in order to safeguard the honour of his unit.

There had been a few times when his wisdom had been called upon. His knowledge of the indigenous Korean people and their customs had proved invaluable on more than one occasion. And of course he had carte blanche when it came to administering last rites to the dying. At least he could help to make sure they passed safely through to the next world.

Ultimately, he was responsible for boosting morale. But it was hard to be philosophically upbeat when you were talking to a patient who had just had an arm or a leg blown off. And how exactly could you take the sting out of telling an injured soldier that his best buddy had been killed?

There were certainly no words that could comfort an orphaned child who had lost their parents or give consolation to a grieving parent who had just lost a child. How could he give faith and hope to these people when he had already begun to doubt his own beliefs?

Then again, God always seemed to throw the odd miracle his way when he was having a battle with his conscience. One such miracle occurred at the 4077th Halloween party. Amidst a deluge of incoming casualties, a young soldier had been brought into the compound, who had been presumed dead on arrival. He was discreetly moved to one side, to await the arrival of the Graves Registration truck. Everyone was so busy that nobody noticed the slight movement of the man's hand.

When he had returned from a trip to the orphanage at the end of the night, the casualties had all been taken care of. He had asked if any of them need last rites and was directed to the young soldier in the truck. Just before it drove off, he stopped it, wanting to give the man last rites. He climbed into the truck, and began the ritual. He suddenly stopped in shock when he saw a tear falling from the man's eye.

Later in Pre-Op, everyone had marvelled at the man's recovery. He would never forget Colonel Potter's words. "_Padre, welcome to the club. You saved a life._" It was one of those moments when everything just seemed to fall into place and renewed his faith again.

Probably the most humbling experience he had endured, was when he witnessed the devotion of a terminally ill GI patient, who wanted to help his critically wounded buddy. They had both come in together as casualties of the war and he had offered to give his buddy some much needed blood. But as the doctors got back the GI's test results, they discovered he had leukaemia. The GI was mortified, not only because of finding out about his illness, but also because he couldn't help his buddy.

Prior to this, the Padre had been getting himself into a frenzy over the imminent visit of a distinguished Cardinal. He was touring to evaluate the performance of deployed Roman Catholic chaplains for the church. His manner had become somewhat uncouth as he insisted everyone in the camp be on their best behaviour for his arrival. He was also fretting about preparing a spirited sermon to hopefully impress the Cardinal at his next service.

However, he had been so overcome with the GI's plight, that he decided to spend the entire night sitting up with him, to help him come to terms with his illness. The incident had taught him a harsh lesson about self-righteousness and humility.

The war had finally ended to the chorus of enemy artillery fire. In a selfless act of bravery, he was nearly killed when running to release a pen full of PoWs, so they could take shelter from the shelling. A shell had exploded right behind him, knocking him over as he ran for cover. The concussion badly damaged his hearing.

He made his post-war choice of working with the deaf known at the 4077th''s farewell dinner, although he did not say why. Only BJ knew of his deafness and helped him cover it up. He knew the priest wanted to stay in Korea a bit longer to help care for the orphans, before returning to America.

But his dream was short-lived as it became apparent that his hearing was getting worse. When he did finally get back to his hometown in Pennsylvania, he suffered from deep depression and had started to drink heavily.

Somehow Colonel Potter had heard about his bad fortune – probably through the intervention of BJ. He recommended him to have an experimental surgical corrective operation, which turned out to be a success. The Colonel had then offered him a position at the VA hospital as Chief Chaplain.

This gave him a reason to feel useful again. So he stopped drinking, moved to Missouri and joined Potter and Klinger at the VA.

He still had his doubts and insecurities. But his renewed faith in human nature helped him to become his quirky, jovial self again.

He often looked back on his experiences in war-torn Korea with mixed feelings. He prayed for all the souls he lost and was thankful for the counsel of friends and patients, who had helped pull him through some of his darker moments in camp.

With his life back on track, now seemed a very good time to show those extraordinary people how grateful he was for all their kindness and understanding.

[**_AN: A big thank-you for the reviews and to everyone who has stuck with the story so far. _**_**Another three chapters to go, so hoping to wrap this up before Christmas.**_]


	9. Chapter 9: Guilt trip

**Chapter 9: Guilt trip**

[_Time-line: July 1955 – Boston, Massachusetts_]

Trapper didn't really didn't know why he had agreed to go to the reunion. Perhaps it was because BJ had sounded very persuasive in his letter so it had seemed like a good idea at the time.

But now, with just a couple of days to go, he wasn't so sure. After all, he had departed, somewhat unceremoniously, without even hanging around to say "Abyssinia" to his best pal, Hawkeye.

Damn it! What was it about that place, that just hearing its name could bring back so many forgotten memories. He had hated every moment of his two years in that miserable, wretched place. He could feel the old buried emotions starting to boil up inside again.

Guilt – that was the emotion that tore him up the most. Guilt because he had gone home first before everyone else. Guilt because he had gone back to his civilian life without giving his former colleagues a second thought. Guilt because although he loved his wife, Louise, he had openly cheated on her whilst they had been apart.

Not that he had tried to hide it from her. It was one of the first things he admitted to when he came home. Turned out she had a few skeletons in the cupboard of her own. They had both managed to forgive each other.

He told her about the time that he had felt so homesick, he almost deserted from the army to go home. Drunk as a skunk, he had packed up his duffle bag, using it to knock Hawkeye to the ground as he tried to stop him going AWOL. Fortunately, Frank Burns had turned up and distracted him long enough for him to forget about his escape plan.

Louise had been sympathetic, appreciating that empty, lonely feeling only too well. It had been the same longing for her husband that had driven her into another man's arms.

Although he was grateful for her honesty and understanding, he realised he didn't like the man he had become whilst he had been away. His easy-going demeanour had slowly been replaced with anger and bitterness. Two feelings that wouldn't normally have conflicted with his playful nature.

Like the time when that wounded North Korean PoW loused up an operation on his patient, which partly led to his death. The son-of-a-bitch had lashed out, destroying the last bottle of blood his patient badly needed.

He had been enraged to discover that the PoW survived. When he confronted the bedridden Korean later, he threatened to murder him, by cutting off his blood supply from the drip. Hawkeye was able to stop him, reminding him that he was there to save lives, not take them.

That wasn't the first time Hawkeye had stopped him from self-destructing. If it hadn't been for him, he wasn't so sure he would have made it, which made the burden of his guilt even harder to bear.

There had been no contact between the two of them since his hasty departure. He had thought about writing to Hawkeye, after the war ended, but he just kept putting if off. He had told himself that Pierce would understand. Their friendship had always been rock solid, so they didn't have to be sentimental about it.

BJ had mentioned Pierce's breakdown in his letter. He couldn't say he was surprised. He knew that his jokes and pranks was just a smokescreen for covering up his horror of a senseless and disturbing war. God knows, he had felt the same way himself on more than one occasion.

He guessed he owed Hawkeye big time. Not only for keeping him sane but for all those times they had laughed together through all the lunacy and misery. He was thankful his friend had found BJ, but now it was his turn to pick up the pieces.


	10. Chapter 10: The indiscretion

**Chapter 10: The indiscretion**

[_Timeline: July 1955 – Mill Valley, California_]

BJ beamed in delight when he read Hawkeye's letter. He was beginning to think he was never going to reply. He knew things had been tough for him since returning from Korea. That incident on the bus had shaken him up real good and had finally broken his resolve.

He had done his best to support him. He had always been the quiet voice of reason that had helped Hawkeye stay grounded. But he had his own ghosts to deal with since returning home. He had gone back to his general hospital job probably sooner than he should have done and had found it hard adjusting to life outside of 4077th M*A*S*H.

He was surprised to find his hand shaking when he had to perform his first operation as a civilian surgeon. Afterwards, the twisted, aching feeling in his gut had caused him to empty the contents of his stomach. Every child that was brought in, reminded him of all the innocent orphans who had been victims of the war, both from the actions of the enemy and the allies alike.

His whole experience of his tour in Korea had left him in some turmoil. His emotions felt like they had been on a rollercoaster ride. His usual mild-mannered behaviour had been tested on a day-to-day basis. Even the good moments seemed to be eclipsed by something bad.

Like the time he received a Bronze Star for trying to rescue a solider, whilst under fire in a helicopter. There was nowhere to land, so he and the chopper pilot had thrown down a rope for the soldier to cling onto, so they could fly him to a safer spot.

But the GI had been too weak to get the rope around him securely. BJ had prepared himself to climb down and help him, just as the snipers start firing on the chopper. One bullet hit the oil cooler, sending black smoke spilling out. The pilot had said that the extra weight would be too much and they wouldn't be able to take off. He had demanded that BJ cut the rope. He had protested, saying the young man would be killed if they left him behind.

The pilot insisted that they leave, saying they'll all be killed if they stayed to help. BJ had reluctantly cut the rope and the wounded solider fell to the ground. As the chopper took off, the sight of that man floundering helplessly where he fell would haunt him forever.

In another moment of madness, he had tried to throttle a wounded soldier who was attacking Hawkeye in the Swamp. This came after he had just berated Hawkeye for losing his patience with him earlier. It was definitely a case of him not practising what he preached!

He was always willing to help out the oppressed refugee families that had set up home within the camp radius. He was humbled by their poverty-stricken, destitute way of life. He remembered he had tried to help one particular family. He had been called out to administer treatment to the aging father, who had pneumonia. He had grown very attached to his two young children, spending a lot of his free time with the family. He brought them gifts and food and had mended the hole in their roof, so the father did not have to sleep in a draft.

The mother had asked him to help locate their son, who had been taken by the North Koreans. He had gone to great lengths (with the help of Radar) to find him. When he was finally located, he had rushed to give them the good news, only to find out that the family had abandoned their house to take refuge from the latest enemy shelling. He never saw the family again and was gutted that he didn't get a chance to tell them about their son. He had pretended he didn't care. But he never got used to the sense of disillusionment he felt when yet again, something good slipped through his fingers.

His biggest hang-up, however, was being away from his wife, Peggy and daughter, Erin. He was very much a family man with traditional values and had a steadfast loyalty towards his wife and marriage. Without a doubt, one of his biggest regrets was getting involved with a vulnerable woman who had just split up with her husband. Understanding her grief, their friendship had drawn them closer and his comforting manner had led to them having a one night stand.

Although the couple had agreed it had been a mistake and that it was circumstance rather than lust that had drawn them together, he had felt deeply ashamed of his actions. Unlike Trapper, he had never told Peg of his little indiscretion. He had come close to it on a couple of occasions. There was an accusing look in her eye sometimes, as if she could read his mind. But nothing was ever said – only presumed.

He couldn't explain why the reunion meant so much to him. Maybe it was because, despite his loathing of his time in Korea, he had come to love those people as if they were an extension of his own family. They were the only ones who truly understood the trauma and the guilt that still kept him awake at night.

There were two very special people that he was hoping would make it to the reunion. One, he knew would almost certainly come and the other, who may still need a little more persuading. It was vital to him that this person came. It would be the perfect end to an already very important day.


	11. Chapter 11: Reunion

**Chapter 11: Reunion**

[_27 July 1955 - Pierre Hotel, Manhattan_]

There were hugs and kisses. There was laughter and tears. There were regrets and apologies. But as the wine flowed and everybody began to relax, eventually the nervous apprehension turned into the celebration that BJ hoped it would be.

All the ex-Swampees were getting on famously. Hawkeye was quieter than usual and for a while there was a guarded look on his face. But as the banter between himself, BJ and Trapper got into full swing, the jokes were soon coming thick and fast.

Hawkeye was pleased that BJ and Trapper were getting on. They were quite similar in nature and background. As they were both family men, they had an immediate connection. And of course, they both shared a friendship with Pierce, that made him feel incredibly privileged.

Charles had suddenly reverted back to his old, pompous self. He could definitely hold his own against the three musketeers and indeed seemed to be enjoying the challenge! But there was no malice in his teasing. There was a respect in his voice that wasn't there before. And there was a sadness in his eyes, as if a part of him was still missing.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Frank had finally plucked up enough courage to speak to Margaret and they were soon deep in conversation . He had been quietly optimistic to discover she had come to the reunion without a partner. Janet had discreetly wandered off and joined the other women to give him time with her on his own. He poured his heart out to her, with an honest sincerity, admitting that she had come to mean everything to him and that going back to Louise was the biggest mistake of his life.

Margaret had listened intently, quite taken back by his confession. She had always thought he was just using her as much as she had used him. But she knew she didn't love him. It would be unfair to lead him on and give him false hope.

"I'm sorry, Frank," she said gently. "But there's someone else. We've been seeing each other for over a year. He's already proposed."

Frank's features literally melted at her revelation. With all the aplomb he could muster, he managed to give her a self-assured smile.

"I see," he responded. "Well, he's a lucky man, Margaret. I hope you find happiness this time around. You deserve someone special, my Angel."

Margaret reached out and took his hand.

"He is special, Frank," she said. "And so are you. Don't ever forget that."

She kissed him affectionately on the cheek and then scurried away, not wanting to become involved in an emotionally-charged conversation. She was surprised that just for a second, he had stirred up some of her old feelings. But they were feelings from the past and she had no wish to go back there again.

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Frank watched her go with a heavy sigh. Despite his obvious disappointment, there was also a sense of relief. For the first time in a long time he felt that he could finally let her go. But it didn't make his decision any easier. It was just another rejection in a long line of rejections in his life. Overcome with emotion, he swiftly turned away, not quite knowing what he was going to do next. As he turned, he bumped into a tall, elegant lady, with long sandy-red hair. The collision made her spill some of her drink down her dress.

"Excuse me, ma'am!" he mumbled, apologetically.

The lady looked back at him with the most exquisite blue eyes he had ever seen. They were even more alluring that Margaret's.

She nodded back, her cheeks reddening at his intense gaze. He suddenly became aware that he was making her uncomfortable and started to prattle on, nervously.

"Oh my, I'm so clumsy!" he exclaimed. "Let me get you another drink. My name is Frank, by the way – Frank Burns. Not that you would have heard of me, of course, but …"

"F-F-Ferret F-F-Face!" she stuttered back, in a bemused voice. She looked totally aghast, as she realised the words had slipped from her mouth before she could stop them. Her brother, Charles, had mentioned the man he had replaced by his nick-name, in some of his letters to her.

For some strange reason, Frank started to giggle. Maybe it was nerves or the expression of horror on her face. Or maybe he had finally developed a sense of humour. But whatever the reason was, he suddenly had an urge to let go of all his pent-up feelings and this seemed to be the best way to do it. Despite her obvious embarrassment, she laughed along with him.

"Can we start again?" asked Frank. He held out his hand in a gentlemanly manner. "Frank Burns," he added politely.

She took his hand shyly.

"Honoria W-W-Winchester," she replied.

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Meanwhile, in her haste to get away, Margaret ran straight into Colonel Potter, who was chewing the cud with Klinger and Radar.

"Whoa, there Margaret!" he exclaimed. "Hold your horses!"

Margaret managed to compose herself and joined in with their conversation. She couldn't help noticing how grown-up Radar had become and how Klinger had matured into a fine husband to Soon-Lee. After a while they drifted off to join in another conversation and she was left with Colonel Potter.

"Saw you talking to Burns, earlier," he said, in his usual, no-nonsense manner. "You two sorted things out?"

She nodded, frowning slightly at the mention of his name.

"I told him there was somebody else," she said.

"I guess he didn't take it too well?" said Potter.

"Actually, he was surprisingly charming about it," replied Margaret.

"I'm guessing by the look on your face that this guy is the real deal?" continued Potter.

"Oh yes," gushed Margaret. "He's handsome and kind and makes me feel like I'm the centre of his universe. He's asked me to marry him."

"Well, bust my britches, that's the best God damn news I've heard all year!" enthused Potter."

Margaret suddenly looked crestfallen as she lost her previous enthusiasm.

"Something tells me there's a "_but_" coming," probed Potter, diplomatically.

"It's just that – well - Dad doesn't approve," she sighed, despondently. "He doesn't come from an army background. He's not even a consultant or a doctor. He's just the Administration Officer at the hospital."

"I see," said Potter, solemnly. He paused for a few seconds, trying to find the right words to comfort the troubled nurse.

"Do you remember what I said to you, the day we all went home," said Potter, finally. "I told you to make sure you found some time to be happy. Sounds to me like you've finally got that chance. Don't blow it, Houlihan!"

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Charles had suddenly became aware that he hadn't seen his sister for a while. He remembered he had left her chatting to Father Mulcahy. Scanning the room quickly, he spotted the priest coming across the room towards him.

"Father," said Charles, nodding in acknowledgement at him.

They engaged in polite conversation for a couple of minutes and then the conversation turned to Honoria.

"I had a lovely chat with your sister earlier," said Mulcahy. "Such a delightful person."

"Yes," replied Charles, bristling with unmistakable pride. "I have to agree with you on that one, Father."

"She obviously thinks an awful lot about you," continued Mulcahy. "Although she did seem a trifle worried about something."

"Oh," said Charles, immediately giving the priest his full attention. "In what way?"

"She thinks she has lost a special part of her brother that gave her great joy in the past," said Mulcahy. "She informs me that you don't listen to your music anymore."

Charles glared angrily at Father Mulcahy.

"That really is no concern of yours, Father," he rebuffed, haughtily. "Now, if you will excuse me, I need to find my sister."

"I never took you for being a hypocrite, Major," interjected Mulcahy loudly, stopping Charles in his tracks as he tried to walk away.

"Explain what you mean by that remark!" retorted Charles, obviously offended by the insinuation.

"Did you not once go to great lengths to convince one of your patients not to give up playing the piano? I believe his right hand was permanently damaged," questioned Mulcahy.

Charles looked slightly taken back. He wasn't aware that anyone had even known about that incident. He assumed the patient must have confided in the priest at some stage and told him.

"That has got absolutely nothing to do with the way I feel," he said in retaliation.

"Really?" remarked Mulcahy. "So you didn't mean it when you said that the true gift of music is in your head and in your heart and in your soul?"

For the first time in a very long time, Charles was completely speechless.

"That's different," he finally said with an air of defiance. "David was a concert pianist. I do not possess his talent for playing the piano."

"But don't you see, Charles," implored Mulcahy. "Music is as much a part of your life as it was David's. You gave that young man hope for the future. You convinced him to use his gift to carry on playing the piano with his left hand. Why would you then punish yourself by silencing something that gives you great joy and fulfilment? And even more importantly, why would you destroy your sister's obvious enjoyment of sharing the gift of music with you?"

For the second time in so many minutes, Charles was lost for words.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Frank had finally torn himself away from Honoria, who on sighting her brother across the floor, had made her excuses to take her leave. He had very much enjoyed her company. Her gentle and almost pure manner was a far cry from the usual harsh treatment he received from his wife – and also - on occasions, from Margaret! Janet, who had eventually joined them, had never seen her father smile so much – or look so happy.

In turn, Honoria had found Frank very amusing and entertaining – in a comical sort of way. She was also aware that by the end of their brief meeting, she had hardly stuttered at all. Janet couldn't help but notice a chemistry between them, that was sadly lacking between her parents.

On Honoria's departure, Frank suddenly spotted Klinger and his wife making their way over to him.

"I can't believe he married a Gook!" he whispered to Janet, under his breath.

"Dad!" exclaimed Janet in a warning voice.

"What?" asked Frank, seemingly oblivious to his racist remark. Janet tutted in frustration as she had to remind herself who the adult was in their relationship!

Luckily, Frank seemed to get the hint and he managed to have a half-decent conversation with Klinger and Soon-Lee without putting his foot in it!

"Do you remember that time you refused to remove that red bandana from your neck?" said Frank.

Klinger blinked his eyes in confusion at the sudden change of direction in the conversation.

"Yeah, sure, I remember," he managed to reply, as he recalled the incident. He had been on guard duty and it was the first time he had encountered the obnoxious Major Frank Burns. It had been an unmilitary item of clothing. But unlike with some of his outlandish costumes he used to wear, the bandana had been given to him by his mother. He had worn it out of a genuine and sincere respect for her.

Unfortunately, things had got a bit heated between himself and the Major as he had refused to remove the item. Father Mulcahy had eventually stepped in to calm things down.

"Well," said Frank, hesitantly. "I didn't realise it had been given to you by your mother. I probably would have made an exception if I had known. I just wanted to say sorry for all the grief I caused."

Klinger blinked again, wondering if he was having a dream about the whole weird conversation.

"No problem, Frank," he finally said. "It's all in the past now."


	12. Chapter 12: Epilogue

**Epilogue**

[**_AN: Sorry, I didn't plan on writing an epilogue, but was aware that the previous chapter was getting a bit long!_**]

No doubt the highlight of the reunion was the arrival of Sidney Freedman with Lorraine Blake. He had recently attended a seminar in Illinois, Henry's hometown and had managed to persuade Lorraine to come to the reunion.

Sidney was welcomed with great affection. In his capacity as psychiatrist, he probably had endured the most difficult time in Korea. As he himself had once admitted, it was always difficult to know whether or not he had healed the minds of his patients. In some tragic cases, he knew he had failed to reach them and that they would remain lost forever.

He had been a good friend to most of the 4077th in one way or another, giving reassurance – usually when off-duty - when all sense of sanity had threatened to rock their world. Looking round the group, he found it fascinating to witness how the war had broken the stronger characters, whilst in contrast, the weaker characters had become stronger.

Lorraine's presence was nothing short of inspirational. To the people who had known Henry Blake, she was a stark reminder of all the souls who didn't come home from the war. But Lorraine wasn't bitter, or twisted. She hadn't turned against God or was pointing the finger of blame at anyone.

She spoke with a vibrancy and passion when referring to 4077th M*A*S*H. They were words that Henry had used when he had written to her about "_that crazy bunch of people_" whom he had learned to become dependent upon.

She spoke of how he referred to Hawkeye and Trapper as the best damn chest-cutters in Korea. She referred to his fatherly relationship with Radar and of the great respect he had for Father Mulcahy. She laughed in delight as she recalled how Klinger had constantly kept her husband amused by his latest hair-brain scheme. She revealed how proud he was when he wrote about his loyal nursing staff and the fabulously feisty, Major Hotlips Houlihan! He even referred to Frank as an "okay type of guy"!

Finally, she spoke of the sadness in her heart, as his chair around the family table would always remain empty. The only regret she had was that he never got the chance to come back and pick up the pieces of his life again.

Therefore, her underlying message was that life was too short to become complacent or hesitant. You had to grab the bull by the horns and live your life so that you would die satisfied that you had fulfilled all your dreams. That way, the ones that didn't make it would never be forgotten.

The group came together one final time, standing in a big united circle. As they held hands, they each reflected on her words and how they would have a big impact on their lives.

Radar had decided he was going to marry his girl, Patty and have children. The farm was doing well and he wanted to make his mother's wish come true by making her a grand-ma.

Klinger was already one step ahead of Radar, having revealed that Soon-Lee was pregnant. He had plans to study for a Civil Service Exam, which hopefully would secure them financially.

Frank was going to divorce his wife. He no longer wanted to live in a web of deceit and lies. He felt stronger now than he had ever felt before in his life. And he was going to make sure he exchanged telephone numbers with Honoria. She had made quite an impression on him, but this time it was for the right reasons. He could finally see a glimmer of hope at the end of his dark tunnel.

Father Mulcahy had not given up on his dream to work with deaf children. His hearing was almost 100% better and his renewed confidence and determination would allow him to establish his goal.

Having taken Colonel Potter's advice, Margaret was going to marry her fiancé. For once, she was going to think about her own happiness without trying to please other people.

The Colonel would still fulfil his role as head of his surrogate family. He would always be the one the others would go to for advice and encouragement.

Trapper had vowed to keep in contact with Pierce and Hunnicutt. After spending nearly three years trying to erase all memory of his days in Korea, he realised that he could never forget the people who had come to mean so much to him.

Charles, having been given the wake-up call he needed from Father Mulcahy, was going to replace his smashed Mozart's Clarinet Quintet record. As he squeezed his sister's hand, he felt an inner peace that he hadn't felt since he had returned home.

Hawkeye also felt a sense of great relief. He had Carlyle and his father. He had the friendship of two of the finest people he had the pleasure to have known. He may have come back from the war with a few demons, but at least he had come back.

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As the guests began to depart, it wasn't long before BJ and Peg were the only two people left in the room. The reunion had gone better than BJ could have hoped for. There was really only one thing now that was standing in his way of moving on with his life.

He took Peggy by the hand and looked deep into her eyes. He could see that questioning look staring back at him. But he could also see the love and trust, almost willing him on to tell her of his indiscretion.

"There's something I have to tell you, Peg," he said, gulping back a big lump in his throat. "I was unfaithful to you when I was in Korea. It only happened the one time and it didn't mean anything."

He paused, waiting for her to say something. He saw a betrayed expression flicker briefly across her face. He hated himself for hurting her like this.

"I know," she finally replied, softly.

BJ looked at her in astonishment.

"You knew!" he repeated. "But why didn't you say anything?"

"I guess I didn't want to give you a reason to lie to me," she said. "That would have hurt me even more."

"Can you forgive me?" he pleaded, his eyes wet with tears of remorse and guilt.

Peg thought carefully about her answer. She knew deep down that her husband loved her. She understood that he had been in a place she could only imagine about in her worst nightmare. And she knew she loved him more now than she had ever loved him before. She thought of Lorraine Blake as she gave him her answer.

"The only thing I couldn't forgive you for, is if you hadn't made it back to me," she said.

BJ let out a sigh of relief as he drew her to him. That's all he needed to hear.

In time, the Korean War would be known historically as the Forgotten War. But to those people who had been attached to the 4077th M*A*S*H, it would always serve as a reminder of all those who would be forgotten by all but their immediate families and close friends.

**T*H*E E*N*D**

[_Thanks for reading. Please do let me know what you thought. Happy New Year, everyone!_]


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